


Stay with Me

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: BixFreed [16]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Promises, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-27 20:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16709746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Freed spends the night watching over Bickslow when sickness puts their job on hold.





	Stay with Me

    Freed’s eyes narrowed as Bickslow doubled over with a cough, the taller man’s shoulders shaking under the force of it and he found himself wincing at how raw and painful it sounded. Hesitating for a moment he moved forward, laying a soothing hand on his partner’s shoulders and beginning to trace gentle patterns, even as he leant forward to peer into Bickslow’s face. A startled gasp slipped free as he took in the feverish flush now dyeing the older man’s face crimson, and the strange brightness to the crimson eyes that slowly rose to meet his gaze.

“Bickslow…” He whispered, reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers over the other’s forehead and scowling at the heat that met his touch. Anger was beginning to burn under his worry as he contemplated their options. He had thought that Bickslow was under the weather that morning because the Skeith mage had been unnaturally quiet and it had taken a lot more effort than usual to extract him from between the covers, both signs that he was coming down with something. When he had asked though, the Skeith mage had just brushed it off as tiredness and considering how long they had spent travelling the day before it was a justifiable reason, and a lie he was now realising, and his expression darkened. “Idiot, why didn’t you just tell me?” He demanded, although there was no real heat in his voice. A sick Bickslow was like a sick puppy, and he could feel his irritation melting under his partner’s pitiful expression even as he tried to harden his heart.

“We…” Bickslow was cut off as he dissolved into another coughing fit, staggering slightly and Freed shifted so that he was supporting more of his partner’s weight, feeling the force of the coughs rocking them both. Bickslow was rarely ill, but on the few occasions that he did manage to come down with something, it always had the habit of being really bad. And of course they were in the middle of nowhere, the hamlet they had stayed in the night before had no healer, and they were a good three days from the only town in the area that might have the resources they needed. “We…need the jewels,” the older man pointed out wearily once he had caught his breath, although Freed was concerned to hear the croak underlying his voice and to realise that he had made no effort to take his weight off of him. “Besides we can’t just ditch a job just because I have a cold.”

“Somehow I doubt this is just a cold,” Freed muttered under his breath, cursing his partner’s stubbornness, ignoring the fact that if their roles had been reversed, he would have done exactly the same. He also knew that Bickslow was right, they had accepted the job, and therefore they needed to complete it, but they could have waited a little longer. They were going to have to, he amended as Bickslow began to cough again, unable to stop the soft groan that slipped out this time and that admission of pain made up his mind. “Come on we’re going back.” Hopefully, the family who had put them up the night before would let them make use of their guest room again because there was no way he was letting the Skeith mage continue until they at least had the fever under control. “But…”

“We. Are. Going. Back,” Freed enunciated each word clearly, his expression stern as he glared at Bickslow, and with a sigh, the Skeith mage nodded in defeat. The fact that it had the fight had been so easily won telling Freed that the older man must be feeling really awful by this point, and his expression softened as he gently brushed away strands of hair that were sticking to his partner’s forehead, his fingers lingering as Bickslow lent into the soothing touch. “The job will still be there when you feel better,” he pointed out gently, carefully straightening as he looped one of Bickslow’s arms around his shoulders, smiling slightly when the dolls who had stayed silent while they listened to the conversation moved to support the Skeith mage on the other side. “Ready?” He asked, and got something that could either have been a grunt of agreement or a groan of discomfort, although Bickslow followed willingly enough when he turned him and lead him back in the direction they had come from.

**

   With the state that Bickslow was in it had taken them far longer that Freed liked to get them back to the hamlet, and by that point the Skeith mage had barely been coherent, rambling to the dolls who for once were echoing their master’s words and he had a feeling they were just as worried as he was. He could have cried with relief when the man who had offered them a place to stay the night before spotted them, taking one look at Bickslow before ushering them inside and helping him get his partner up to the guestroom.

   It didn’t take long to get Bickslow settled in the bed, even though he chose that moment to try and be argumentative, protesting that he didn’t need to rest. Thankfully Freed had long since perfected the art of getting the older man to do what he wanted, and the dolls tended to side with him when it came to situations like this, helping keep Bickslow on the bed until the fight abruptly drained from him. Freed tried not to panic, never liking it when any of his teammates were sick or hurt, but finding it a hundred times worse when it was Bickslow. Their host reappeared with a basin of cold water and a cloth, and some flu medicine which Freed accepted with a grateful smile, even as he graciously refused any help caring for his partner, wanting, or rather needing to do it himself.

“Bickslow,” he called gently as he settled beside the older man, earning a sleepy hum, Bickslow clearly hovering on the edge of sleep now that he had stopped trying to resist the fact that he was ill, and he nudged him gently and waited until the Skeith mage turned reluctantly towards him. “You need to take this before you sleep, okay?” A sleepy blink was his only answer, but he took that as a yes, gently easing the older man up so that he could take the medicine without choking on it, bopping him on the nose when the idiot stubbornly tried to turn his head to the side. He received an offended glower for his effort, but given Bickslow’s condition it felt like being glared at by a puppy, and he merely smiled in response before gently settling him back on the pillows. “Get some sleep,” he ordered softly, dipping the cloth in the water and beginning to clear the sweat of his partner’s forehead as Bickslow’s eyes drooped, but just as they were about to close completely, he forced them open once more.

“Stay?”

“Of course,” Freed reassured him at once. This was a common plea when Bickslow was ill, a fear born during childhood when he had been left to suffer through on his own, and he made sure to meet the frightened crimson gaze. The gaze that he was the only person that was allowed to see, and after a moment Bickslow hummed contentedly and let his eyes drift shut as he gave in to his exhaustion. “Always,” he added softly, smiling when the dolls who had lined themselves up at the head of the bed like little sentinels echoed the promise, glancing up at them before continuing to wipe the cool cloth over over-heated flesh.

**

   In true Bickslow style he got steadily worse as the evening progressed, Freed steadfastly refusing to leave his side even with the dolls there to help keep an eye on him, and the meal that the farmer’s wife had brought up for him lay forgotten on the sideboard. He was continually resoaking the cloth and wiping it over Bickslow’s face, trying to do what he could to bring the fever down because the couple had confirmed that there was no healer in the hamlet at the moment. Although the farmer had offered to try and find one in the next village if the Skeith mage hadn’t improved by morning…the Rune mage had been hard pressed not to demand that he go right away, but he knew the local area wasn’t safe to travel at night especially for anyone who wasn’t a Mage, and there was no way he was leaving Bickslow. He just hoped the older man could get over the worst of it on his own.

“Freed?” Bickslow stirred restlessly, tossing his head from side to side, eyes barely more than slits and what little the Rune mage could glimpse of his eyes they were incredibly unfocused. He was already leaning forward, reaching out to grasp one of the hands tugging fretfully at the covers when Bickslow called for him with increased urgency. “Freed?!”

“Shush,” Freed murmured soothingly, running his free hand through messy hair and smiling when Bickslow slowly tilted his head to look at him. “I’m right here.” Bickslow’s fingers tightened around his, and he squeezed back. “I’m right here.”

“Good…don’t go anywhere,” the Skeith mage’s eyes had opened a little more, and he was peering blearily up at Freed. “I don’t like it when you go away.” Freed’s expression softened at that admission, he already knew that much, but it was nice to hear it said aloud. He just wished that it wasn’t because he was ill, but he still smiled as he leant in to press a gentle kiss to a flushed cheek.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he added, the words falling on death ears as Bickslow dropped off to sleep once more, slightly calmer than before. Just the fact that he had spoken to him and managed to reply reassured Freed and he took a deep breath before returning to his previous ministrations even as he kept his fingers entwined with Bickslow’s.

**

   It was about two in the morning when Freed began to detect an improvement in Bickslow’s condition, weariness weighing him down as he ran his fingers over his partner’s forehead once more, relieved to feel that the frightening heat from before and subsided somewhat. _Bickslow_ … He smiled as the Skeith mage leaned unconsciously into his touch, the older man had woken several times over the past few hours, always checking that Freed was still there and occasionally asking for the dolls as well. Always soothed when they replied in the affirmative, and for the past hour he had been sleeping fairly peacefully and Freed let out a sigh of relief. Luck was never usually on their side when Bickslow was ill, but for once the fates seemed to have been kind to them. Although it also meant that he was going to have a fight on his hands because Bickslow would try to insist on moving on straight away but Freed was determined to get him to rest for a couple of days at least. _Somehow…_

  The temptation to shut his eyes for a couple of minutes was growing, but he stubbornly resisted it, rubbing at his eyes to try and clear them. He had too many bad experiences of falling asleep only to wake up to find that his partner had taken a turn for the worse. He could always rest once Bickslow was definitely on the mend, and it would also give him an excuse to keep the Skeith mage from bounding out on the job before he was ready. However, he knew that he was going to have to do something to keep himself awake and feeling the dolls’ eyes on him he managed a tired smile, launching into one of the many tales he had memorised for their sake, hoping that it would be enough to keep him awake.

****

   Bickslow stirred slowly, feeling groggy and more than a little congested and he coughed slightly, scowling as it did nothing to ease the tickly feeling at the back of his neck. He grumbled under his breath, cursing himself for getting ill now of all times and hating the fact that he was sick, there was nothing he hated more, and he tried to roll over with the intention of going back to sleep until he felt better. However, he had barely begun to move before he found himself colliding with a warm body and his eyes shot open. Only to find himself staring at a mane of green hair and it took far longer than it should have for his drowsy mind to realise that Freed was sprawled awkwardly on the bed, still partially in the chair he had been using.

“Freed?” He called softly, slightly surprised when the Rune mage didn’t immediately start awake as he was usually a ridiculously light sleeper. However, as the sleep cleared from his thoughts he realised just how exhausted his partner looked, and he sighed, memories of waking on and off during the night to always find Freed by his side coming back to him. The memories were somewhat hazy, but he had no doubt that Freed had really been there and that he had probably only just fallen asleep, and that it probably hadn’t been willingly. It was always the same, whenever one of the Raijinshuu were ill the Rune mage would push himself to exhaustion to take care of them.

   Cautiously Bickslow eased himself upright, relieved to find the world wasn’t spinning like it had been the day before, a good sign that his fever had gone down even if he still felt ill. Once he was sure that he wasn’t going to tilt over, he set about carefully pulling Freed properly onto the bed, dreading to think how much the younger man was going to ache from his current position. Freed mumbled a protest but didn’t wake, instead curling himself around the Skeith mage as soon as he was properly on the bed, his head automatically coming to rest in its usual position against Bickslow’s chest as the older man flopped back down beside him. Bickslow gently pulling him closer, smiling wearily as Freed nuzzled his chest, his fingers moving up to lightly card through the long green hair, the soothing motion encouraging his eyes to drift shut once more.

“Thank you for staying with me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into the green hair just before sleep pulled him under, vaguely aware of Freed’s arms snaking around him and a soft voice whispering in his ear.

“Always.”


End file.
